Some indeed carried themselves, dressed themselves even, rather as foreign visitors from the land of “Looking Backward” and “News from Nowhere” than as the indigenous Londoners they were. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. There happened that year to be an unusual proportion of girls and women in the advanced laboratory, perhaps because the class as a whole was an exceptionally small one. They were silent for a time. They had been informally introduced during floor hockey, when Katy had sent a puck flying into Lucy’s face. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help.
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